


Quitting

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-06
Updated: 2004-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22861381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dan hated fame. Not nearly as much as Harry did, and Dan happened to be much better, he thought, at handling fame than Harry.
Relationships: Rupert Grint/Daniel Radcliffe
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: Anonymous





	Quitting

Dan hated fame. Not nearly as much as Harry did, and Dan happened to be much better, he thought, at handling fame than Harry. He had no problem looking pretty for the camera, though he hated that phrase. He was not pretty, no matter how many times the photographers and screaming fans said he was. 

He took a long drag off the silk-cut dangling between his lips; his publicist would kill him if he found out. All the extra time that would have to be spent on whitening his teeth for fear the press would find out about his habit. He had a clean-cut image to present. Rupert could get away with it if he wanted. Rupert could get away with anything, really, as he wasn't nearly as famous as Dan. He found himself channelling Draco and spat on the ground mumbling about the famous Harry Potter. 

Dan hated fame, but he liked the strong taste of tobacco, liked the way the smoke curled its way back up his nose as he played with it, taking his time to finish off just the one cigarette. He closed his eyes and exhaled, so caught in the moment he didn't hear Rupert step up beside him; not even aware of Rupert's presence until he felt the cigarette torn from between his fingers, until he heard the sound of it being snuffed in the gravel by a shoe. 

Peeking out of one eye, Dan half-glared at Rupert. "That was my last one, you know."

"And? I hate it when you smoke. Costuming hates it too." Rupert stepped back and to the side, leaning against the trailer wall, opposite Dan. 

"Sod costuming. I don't see you stopping Tom or Devon."

"Tom can pull off the bad boy image without reprecussions. And Devon, well no one really pays much attention to him, least not the press. He can take a piss without having to wonder if a journalist is going to report that he forgot to wash his hands." Rupert pulled out a pack of chewing gum, cinnamon flavoured, and popped a piece into his mouth before offering it to Dan. 

He chewed the gum, it quickly enhancing then replacing the tobacco taste. He'd have to get another pack later, though it would be more difficult since they were on location in Scotland. Perhaps Devon or Tom had an extra pack he could knick. "Thanks."

"No problem, they say we're done for the day. The reel broke, so they've got to see how much of it they were able to salvage before we shoot any more." Rupert leant against the wall, noiselessly chomping on the gum and nervously shifting his feet on the gravel. His finger wrapped around a loose string on his sleeve and tugged, the tip of his finger slowly turning purple as the string wrapped more tightly around. 

Dan watched in fascination for several moments, until Rupert's finger began turning white as all the blood seemed to be blocked from reaching the tip. He yanked the string free from the clothing and peeled it away from Rupert, his fingers brushing across the skin. "You'll lose the feeling permanently if you keep that up."

"I'll quit when you quit," Rupert held tight to Dan's wrist, his eyes focused and determined that he would not let go until Dan agreed.

"Fine, it's just that I like..." Dan trailed off as Rupert stuck out his tongue, the cinnamon gum resting on the tip. He licked his lips and was ready to finish his sentence when Rupert spoke. 

"Gum, Dan. It'll keep your mouth occupied." Rupert's hand slid down so that it was no longer around Dan's wrist, but holding his hand palm to palm. His tongue flicked across his lips and Dan watched intently. "Or there's alwa-" Dan's mouth muffled Rupert's words. 

They'd done this before, once at an after-party, though they both had the rum to blame for that, as they think it was James, or perhaps Oliver that poured a shot in their drinks first. Their faces had both been rather flushed, not that anyone could tell that it was induced by anything but dancing and the heat inside the dance hall. 

This time though, they could only blame themselves, blame their hormones, blame it on the air... whatever reason they came up with wouldn't be good enough. Not that booze that they couldn't explain how they obtained it was any better an excuse. 

Rupert closed his eyes and parted his lips, and as his tongue entered Dan's mouth he could taste the lingering remains of tobacco smoke - thankfully now heavily tainted by cinnamon. "You know," Rupert said several moments later, "If they made cinnamon flavoured cigarettes, i don't think I'd mind your smoking so much."

Dan laughed and buried his face in Rupert's hair, which smelt of lemongrass and bergamot, and Dan wondered when Rupert had started using such fancy shampoo. "Your hair smells nice," he mumbled, his tongue flicking out along the shell of Rupert's ear, his thumb running down the side of his neck, almost searching for his pulse, to make sure this was all real and not another of his wet dreams. He'd thought he'd outgrown that phase ages ago, but apparently it was back with a vengeance, and had been ever since their first kiss. 

"S'my mum's," Rupert whispered. "I ran out in London and we didn't have a chance to run to the-" 

Dan's finger pressed firmly against his lips, "Shhh. Doesn't matter, I like it."

Rupert nodded, and traced along the ridges of Dan's finger with his tongue, tasting the smoke there as well. "Does it get everywhere?"

"Don't know, haven't ever checked."

"I wish we actually had magic."

"Why?"

"Because, then I could find out right now." Dan shivered as Rupert licked along his neck.

"We could just go inside," Dan said, matter-of-factly. 

"We could," Rupert shifted his weight, the gravel crunching underfoot. "But it's so nice out here."

"I really don't fancy gravel digging into my shins, or my back, or any part of me, thanks."

"I don't mind."

"Well, that's just great, you can explain the bruises and cuts to makeup and costuming, because I'm not."

Rupert sighed, dragging his teeth along Dan's skin. Pulling back he dragged Dan to the door of his trailer, waiting impatiently for Dan to open the door. Once inside it was seconds before Rupert had him pinned to the couch, his mouth searching for traces of smoke. 

"I thought you wanted me to quit?" Dan drew in a quick breath as Rupert's hands slipped under his shirt, nudging it up and over his head. 

"I do," he mumbled against a nipple, his tongue swooping across the puckering flesh. 

"Then why?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

Rupert's hands snaked under the waistband of Dan's trousers, "I want to show you what smoke does. It lingers everywhere. You can't hide it as easily as you seem to think is possible."

Dan gasped as Rupert's hand grazed across his cock. "I get the point. It's everywhere." He rolled them over, landing the both of them on the floor, the trailer shaking a little from the fall. "But, I'm not quitting." He pinned Rupert's arms over his head and kissed him, rubbing against him, his erection straining against his pants. 

"You said you would if I quit with the strings," Rupert groaned, arching up, aching to feel Dan's chest pressed against him. 

"Yeah, but you're not going to quit with the strings. You've been doing it since filming Philosopher's Stone. Probably longer. I don't think you could quit if you wanted."

Rupert struggled to free his hands, sitting up and tearing off his shirt and tossing it on the couch. A few more awkward moves and both were undressed, the smooth tile floor cold against their skin. Rupert tugged at Dan's lip with his teeth, his hands digging into his back. As Dan sucked his tongue into his mouth, Rupert made a mock-gagging noise. 

"What?"

"You mouth. It taste like arse, the gum flavour has worn out."

"It does not!"

"How do you know?

"I just do."

"Have you ever tasted arse?"

"No, have you?"

"No."

"Then how do you know cigarettes don't taste like arse?"

"How do you know they do?"

"Well, that's what it tastes like! Stale arse."

Dan sat up and frowned. "We could just stop if you're going to complain so much."

"No."

"Okay then. Where were we?"

"Discussing the taste of arse versus cigarettes."

"Well I can I tell you, they taste nothing alike."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Like this," Dan smirked, sliding down Rupert's body. He licked at Rupert's entrance, the opening puckered tight. "This would work better if-" Dan nudged Rupert until he was laying face down, his arse lifted in the air at Dan's insistence. "There." He slowly pushed his tongue inside, wiggling it as best he could, loosening the muscle, his hands splaying the cheeks apart, gently massaging the flesh causing Rupert to relax completely. Dan's hands slid forward to grip his hips, steadying him as he thrust his tongue in and out faster, his nose pressed tight betwen Rupert's ass cheeks. 

Rupert pressed his face to the cold tile as Dan fucked him with his tongue, moans resonating from deep in his throat. His hand wrapped around his cock, tugging and twisting to match Dan's tongue, brushing his thumb across the head as his balls constricted. He collapsed to the floor as he came, his knees giving way. 

Dan kissed his way up Rupert's back and whispered in his ear, "They taste nothing alike."

"I know."

"You know! Then why all-" Dan started indignantly.

"I just wanted you to eat my arse."

"You could have asked."

"Yeah, but it was more fun having you insist on it as opposed to doing it because I asked."

"Prat."

"Arse licker."

"You liked it."

"So? Doesn't change the fact you're an arse licker."

"Tight arse."

"Thanks."

"Didn't mean it like that."

"So?"

"Is that all you're going to say in retaliation? So?" Dan shook his head, burying his face in Rupert's hair, his own erection untouched and pressing into Rupert's back.

"Maybe. Got a problem with it?" Rupert smirked. 

"No."

"Okay then."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Shove it."

"Make me."

"I think I will." 

Rupert laughed and pushed Dan off him. He lowered himself between Dan's legs, his tongue swirling around the tip of Dan's cock. As he took it in his mouth Dan called out his name, his thoughts drifted to smoking and fame. 

Dan liked smoking, but he liked Rupert better. He liked the way Rupert moaned when he curled his tongue like a tendril of smoke as it escaped his lips. Dan liked fags and hated fame; hated that fame prevented him from openly liking what he wanted. Hated that fame made his publicist worse than having an over-protective mother. 

Dan would quit when Rupert did, and Rupert - showed no signs of quitting. Ever.


End file.
